okitactless | IC inbox; recolle

[He thinks he's dreaming at first, which should probably have been the first sign that he wasn't.

He was the first to arrive.

It was nearly winter and the cold air settles against his skin strangely, and he is told that more will come soon, which is good. His home is too large now. The memories move choppily with faces passing by in a blur and nothing but numbers sticking out. The second arrival, the third.

He's in an empty bedroom, staring at the door and listening to the others retreat into their own rooms. He's waiting for someone.

The tenth arrival, the eleventh, the twelfth.

Seasons change out on the veranda. More people arrive. He is still alone in his room, waiting for someone. It hurts, he realizes - it's painful. He doesn't talk about the person he's waiting for, though he knows who it is in his mind, of course. Yasusada. Who else would he be waiting for? He talks about him sometimes, and misses him even more. He understands now why it's easier to not talk about the people who aren't yet home. It almost feels like a curse, like the more they're discussed, the less likely it'll be that they'll arrive.

He is still alone in that room when the sixteenth person comes.

Kashuu sits bolt upright, the pillow to his side sliding over onto the floor unnoticed as he tries to catch his breath. He's winded somehow, like someone waking from a strong nightmare, even though what he'd experienced wasn't really nightmarish. The feeling he's been swept away with isn't sharp and bitter panic. It's not a fear of death or harm, it's not an ill omen coated with the oily sheen of blood.

But it's crushing. It's like all of the loneliness, all the moments he could admit to himself that he'd missed his best friend, all at once - but even greater than that. A blink of time had passed by in this big hotel room, but it had felt like days sprawled out before him and he was left missing something vital.

It's not the first time he's had a memory attack like this, but it's the first time he's lost sleep over one. The hotel room is comfortable and the bed is luxuriously soft, but no matter how hard he squeezes his eyes shut or hugs his remaining pillow to his chest, he can't dispel that haunting feeling of loneliness or the empty bedroom that wasn't his.

When Yamato opens the door to leave his mother's place this morning, Kashuu will be there, sitting on the sidewalk curb with his back to the door.]

[Maybe it would be easier, if the ache he was feeling stemmed from that single memory. If he could write it off as lingering pain from a past life he can't change, or a future too distant to fear.

But no, he isn't so lucky. He hasn't been plagued by any new nightmares, and while he hasn't forgotten the last vision he'd had, it's diminished compared to what happened afterwards. No, the loneliness he's feeling now is just a few years fresh, years that he remembers, that he knows he lived through. It's a loneliness he can see when he looks at old photographs, at old messages he'd sent out, desperately trying to hold his little family together. It's the steady, lingering pain of diminishing hope, of walking into a room with the certain knowledge that the person you want to see won't be there.

He goes back, the second day. He knows Kashuu won't be there (even though a part of him, a tiny part, hopes, irrationally--), but it's a relief to see he hasn't packed up all his things (and it hurts, too, because it gives him hope, hope that he'll turn to leave just as Kashuu is walking in the door--)

He stays long enough to make a quick meal--just, of course, to use up the ingredients in the fridge, before they go bad. He leaves it in the fridge--just, of course, because his mother's cooking is far better than his own. He doesn't write a note, doesn't take any of his things with him. He leaves Kashuu's phone on the counter, and while he might not have much regard for tact, he still knows what lines not to cross. Kashuu will be able to see that he didn't snoop through anything.

When he goes back to his mother's house, he shakes his head at her gentle inquiries, retreats to his old room, and stays there for the rest of the night.

It's only his mother that gets him to leave at all, really. He doesn't care enough to notify his professors or classmates, and all he tells his dojo partners is that he isn't feeling well. He'd called to take a little time off of work--not a huge deal, since he's part-time anyway--not because he couldn't do it, but because he doesn't think he could handle getting called out on his "gloomy" face a second time.

But it wouldn't take a genius to figure out that Yamato's fighting with his roommate, and Yamato's mother knows her son very well. So it's a few errands here, a few deliveries there--nothing he can't handle, and nothing that would force him towards Apprassage. He'll go back when he's ready. For now, she's content to have him step outside at all.

It's one such errand that has him leaving the house today. Yamato doesn't put a lot of effort into his appearance most days, but one look makes it obvious that his nights haven't been restful, either. His clothes are fine, his hair's no worse than usual (to anybody who can't see the tangles), but there are dark circles beneath his eyes, his face pale and withdrawn. His eyes aren't nearly as bright, and his whole demeanor lacks energy, as if he's been lessened, somehow. Like someone took a part of him away, shrinking down his whole presence.

There are still a few flecks of blue left, on his fingernails. Just a few--clinging to his hands even after he'd angrily picked off what hadn't chipped away naturally.

He's thought about what to do when they meet again. He hasn't actually figured it out yet, but he's thought about it all the same. But none of those scenarios began like this, and for a second, he freezes in the doorway, eyes widening in surprise. Kashuu's here, and he's totally unprepared-- if he'd known--

--but no, that must've been the whole point. That he wouldn't be prepared.

As soon as that thought occurs to him, his face closes off again, dropping into an expression that's guarded and almost sullen. Kashuu isn't here to apologize, surely. Yamato's perfectly aware of his habit to spit out cruel things and regret them later, but if that was the case, Kashuu would've come back far sooner, right? But if it's not for that, then what does he want? Unless he's just here to visit Yamato's mother, which wouldn't be unheard of...]

What? [He'd meant it to sound suspicious, to give off a vibe of "if you're here to be rude, you can turn around and leave now". But instead, it just comes out quiet and tired.

He can't help it, in the end. He misses Kashuu. And it seems that no amount of hurt or anger can change that.]

[If Kashuu's plan was to catch Yamato off of his guard, he apparently didn't account for the fact that he should probably prepare himself so as not to be caught unprepared right along with him... WHOOPS.

(The truth is that he didn't have any plan at all, really. He'd just sort of let his feet carry him this way when he'd "woken up", as if he'd actually managed to get back to sleep in the first place, and he's been sitting out here thinking of nothing but how sore his heart feels.)

The sound of the door swinging open has his heart jackhammering away in his chest. He's on his feet again before he knows it and really, it's so rude when his body acts without his okay, but it's not like he can do anything about that right now. He turns toward that familiar voice like a flower seeking sunlight and then simply stands there for a breath, a fish out of water, caught somewhere between anxiety and disgruntlement and little remaining pinpricks of reflexive, self-righteous anger.

It's really nothing compared to the relief, though.

Just seeing Yamato's face again, hearing him speak - even if it's such a sad, listless sort of tone, and even though Kashuu immediately zeroes in on the darkness below his eyes - sets his heart at ease, like a balm against it. He'd only been away for a week, but between that and the strange visions that had plagued him only hours earlier, it feels like he's seeing his face for the first time in a year.]

Yasu—...sada.

[Ah.

...He hadn't planned what to say, either. His pride is still an absolute beast to contend with, and it won't let him say things like "I'm sorry, please forgive me, I didn't mean it" easily. It won't let him speak of his loneliness or how much he'd missed sharing a space, it won't let him talk about the memories of those nights in that room, waiting.

Instead of trying, he nearly forces himself to double over. It's a sudden movement, somehow sloppy and stilted at the same time. A bow. Still easier than the words.

When he speaks again, his voice is uncharacteristically uncertain and soft.]

...Come home?

[Kashuu doesn't like to be seen as anything less than perfect. He knows that. And probably to anybody else, that's exactly how he'd look--a little sleepy, a bit tousled, but nothing that couldn't be written off as intentional styling.

But he's seen Kashuu every morning for months, now. And even after a week of separation, it only takes one look to tell him all he needs to know.

Maybe he should feel smug, that Kashuu's apparently been suffering as much as he has. Maybe it should feel good, like his decision to walk away was justified. Maybe he should just turn around and march right back inside before Kashuu has the chance to blame him for ruining his makeup, or something.

But it doesn't feel good. If anything, it makes him feel worse.

The sound of his full name doesn't help either. Not even when he notices the little hitch, like Kashuu's remembered they're fighting--like he came all the way here just to push him away again. That thought should piss him off, but it doesn't. It just reminds him of how much he doesn't want to lose this.

But even his kindest, most forgiving thoughts can't prepare him for what Kashuu actually does. It isn't really Kashuu's style to apologize--lesser fights had been ended with little gestures, like warm tea in the morning or a nice outfit already laid out for him. He can't remember the last time he saw Kashuu get this close to a straightforward apology, and his heart can't decide what to do with itself.

This doesn't fix anything, whispers the quiet part of him that never really got over Kashuu's sudden departure. And it's true. If he goes back now, it will be like pretending nothing ever happened, which is exactly what his problem was in the first place. The sword might be hidden in Kashuu's closet, but Yamato will know it's there, and every time he remembers it could spark another flare of stubborn anger. This won't be over. If he gives in now, maybe it never will be.]

I...

[No. No matter how important this issue is to him, they can't go on like this. Everything he said that night was true--it kills him, the way Kashuu treats their history as a blight upon his present self. Even if it's useless, if there's nothing to be done about it, the past matters to Yamato far more than even Kashuu knows. But this Kashuu, right here, real and tangible and and waiting for him to take the olive branch, matters more.

The memories he has are precious. But nothing will ever change that. No one can take them away from him. But he's already lost Kashuu once, twice, even, if you count this week--and Yamato does. Those memories will stay with him forever, but Kashuu won't, if he turns him away now. And that's unbearable.

Besides, he's tired. He wants to shuffle out of his room and hear Kashuu complain about his hair in the morning. He wants to step through the doorway to find fabric all over their little living room, whether it's because Kashuu's working on a new design or because he just can't decide what to wear.

He just wants to go home.]

...I have to go get some cabbage. [Is what he says, and even though Kashuu's the one asking, he sounds uncertain too. He hesitates for just a second, then holds out a hand.] Come with?

[Yamato isn't good at words. But he doesn't play games--if he'd wanted to say "no", that's exactly what he would've said. This is as close to a "yes, and I'm sorry" as he can manage, for now.]

[Yamato doesn't play games, but Kashuu can't help the little reflexive half-beat of anxiety that trills through him automatically. It's quickly drowned out by logic, though, and what he knows to be the truth - that Yamato isn't always able to say what he means, but that he means what he does say, and that he doesn't mince words when it's important.

So... if it's not a no, it's as good as a yes, isn't it? Just like how his non-apology is a stand-in for all those more tender words that he can't bear to force out just yet.

There's another little half-step of hesitation, but then he's moving forward, reaching for Yamato's outstretched hand.

Somehow, as he closes his fingers around it, it makes the visions seem a little less oppressively present in his mind's eye.

This won't be where things end. He knows that it won't be, because he knows Yamato believes (most of) the things he said to be true, even if they were painful to hear. He knows he can't get rid of the sword or erase Yamato's memories of having seen him use it. He knows that things won't just go back to the way they had been before this week, which is always the way it is when it comes to the two of them and big fights. Little things change. Tiny, subtle things - but he'd like to think, at least, that they're changes for the better.

For now, he waits for Yamato to lead the way, simply asking:]

Is your mom making something?

[Just to fill the air between them while he sorts out the more important things that he wants to say.]

[He'd known (he'd hoped) that Kashuu would accept, but he can't stop the small sigh of relief that slips out, the way his shoulders begin to relax when he hadn't even realized they'd tensed. He takes Kashuu's hand and squeezes gently, like he wants to make sure it's really there, before he gives it a little tug and starts down the street.]

Yeah. Dad's coming home tonight for a couple of days, so she wants to make okonomiyaki.

[If he's totally honest, he'll be glad to go home tonight; he loves his father, but due to his long absences, they've never been quite as close as Yamato is with his mother. He'd been counting on his mother explaining why he was staying home, so that he wouldn't have to do it himself. It's embarrassing, somehow. Like he's being less of a man by hiding from the world, even though he knows, logically, that neither of his parents would think that way.

Still, he's glad. He leads the way towards the store, but he walks close to Kashuu's side, while he does--it's only been a week, but already he feels the need to make up for lost time. "I guess that means we've always been together," he'd said, and right now, he's positive that that's how things are supposed to be.]

[He follows along easily, like he'd done the first time Yamato had taken his hand and refused to let go so many years before. At some point over the years, things had changed so Kashuu ended up being the one dragging Yamato along after him more often than not, but he still follows like it's just as natural to let Yamato take the lead.]

Oh, that's pretty rare. [For his dad to come back... Also for his mom to make okonomiyaki, probably, considering it's a large and sharable dish.] Are you gonna be back there tonight for it?

[There's a tiny, petty part of himself that hopes Yamato says "no", even though that's stupid. Yamato has already basically agreed to come back to the apartment. One more dinner isn't going to make a difference, but he can't help feeling a little nervous about it anyway, as if giving him more time to think things through will give him a chance to change his mind.

He shakes his head a little, as if to dispel those thoughts, and keeps pretty much as close to Yamato as Yamato does to him. It's not really bitterly cold anymore like it had been in winter, but the way he's clinging is kind of reminiscent of what he does when he's trying to steal a little excess body heat.

It's more than that, though. He's simply soaking up a presence that he'd missed terribly, for reasons he can't even entirely pinpoint. After all, it's not like two entire years of separation had driven him back home before. ...He doesn't give himself time to think about that, either.]

[Yamato's never had much regard for personal space, but he's never been the touchy type, either. If a friend wants to throw an arm around him for a photo or flop against him after a long day, then he won't push them away, but it's pretty rare that he does such things himself.

Except for Kashuu. Of course. Kashuu's been the exception to everything for so long that it's impossible to consider things being any other way. Kashuu is tactile enough that he doesn't often have to reach out first, but he's so, so glad that when he does, Kashuu reciprocates tenfold. It might not look "cute", or "dignified", or anything else Kashuu loves to be called, but that apparently doesn't matter right now, and it warms him to know that.

He doesn't have a good answer to the question, so he shrugs uncertainly. He'd planned to be, of course. As much as he'd wanted it, he hadn't actually expected Kashuu to be the one who reached out to him for forgiveness. Some small, weary part of his heart had always expected that he'd give in first, that the separation would grow unbearable. But he'd hoped to stick to his guns long enough to prove to himself that he could. It was inevitable that he'd break under the weight of his loneliness, but he'd been determined to hold up through every crack and fissure.

His mother wouldn't mind if he went back home--back to his home, not hers. If anything, she'd probably be relieved. But he'd given her no indication that he wouldn't be there, and even though he knows she's an expert at storing leftover food, it would be a little rude to suddenly burden her with his share.]

Do you want to come? [There's hesitation in his voice, not because it's been so long since Kashuu came over for dinner, but because he still isn't quite sure where they stand, right now. He'd like to believe that this closeness speaks volumes, but he knows how mercurial Kashuu's moods can be. So he adds--] You should. I want you to.

[Will he ever learn not to be blunt... no, no he won't.]

[Kashuu really isn't focused on looking cute or elegant or anything right now which is THE TRUE RARITY--

But he's really too wrapped up in his own thoughts to bother worrying about whether his hair is neatly in place or his makeup is blended perfectly. It was only habit that had him slathering it on in the first place, even if it would look perfectly fine to almost anyone else.

He's focused instead on turning the offer over in his mind. His moods are very fickle, it's true, but that's not what gives him pause this time. Rather, it's because he's actually having trouble sliding back into something "normal" for once. Unlike Yamato, whose weekly schedule clearly took a bit of a hit with Kashuu's absence, he'd been able to function normally the entire time. No one ever stopped to ask him if he was okay. He didn't miss any of his obligations or skimp out on social meetings. But somehow, there's a little awkward something that makes him wonder if it really is just as easy as saying "yes".

AND THEN YAMATO GOES AND IS A HUGE EMBARRASSMENT and at least a little normalcy is returned, because even now, Kashuu is too tsuntsun to handle that sort of shit.]

You're really something else, you know that? [There's only a bit of the usual why do you say these things present since being Truly Tsun would require too much mental energy right now, but he does glance off to the side as though embarrassed. WHICH HE IS.]

...But if you want me to come, it's not like I'll say no. Your mom makes the best okonomiyaki, anyway.

Edited 2017-04-10 07:47 (UTC)

[When will Kashuu become cute Hanamaru Kashuu and lose his tsuntsun side! When!!! But no, that's a mild enough reaction that Yamato just makes That Face, the mildly-puzzled-but-not-enough-to-ask face.]

Of course. She'll be happy to see you, it's been a while. Dad too, it's been years, hasn't it?

[Even before this--even before Kashuu's disappearing act, really. His father comes home in sudden, short bursts, and a quick "hello" through a Skype chat isn't really the same.

He bites his lip, and now he looks a little embarrassed.]

I was thinking of looking for something nice for them... since I haven't really done much to help out.

[Even Hanamaru Kashuu has a tsuntsun side don't fool yourself... Kashuu "HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT WITH A STRAIGHT FACE" Kiyomitsu and his eternal tsunstreak.

Either way, he doesn't make a direct remark in response to that, since it's somehow a little embarrassing and also a little sad. He knows Yamato loves his dad! He knows Yamato's mom loves her husband! So it's kind of sad to see that he's around so rarely.

As far as gifts go--]

What, like flowers or something? Or just a present?

[WHEN WILL KASHUU'S REFLECTION SHOW WHO HE IS INSIIIIIIIIDE

But it's clear that he hasn't thought much beyond "wow I've just kind of laid in my room and been a sad pompom for a week, maybe I should apologize for that", since he shrugs uncertainly. They're so close together that the movement brushes his arm against Kashuu's, but if Yamato minds, he doesn't show it.]

I don't know, I didn't have any ideas. Just something nice that mom would like, flowers might work... or maybe wine or something. [Since he is going to the grocery store and all.]

Both could work... Or maybe we could get something your parents could enjoy while your dad's here? Like one of those make-your-own-chocolate kits or something.

[Because apology flowers for being a sad pompom rug in his room for a week is fine and all, but why do that when you can get something CUTE...

Or more like he isn't even aware it's an apology gift since "I haven't done much to help out" is automatically followed by "because I moved out" in Kashuu's head, and not "because I literally did the bare minimum for a week"... Even though he knows Yamato's penchant for getting wrapped up in his own melancholy, he'd be surprised to hear it affected him this badly.

In any case, Kashuu leans inward a little when Yamato's shoulder brushes against his own, like he's making up for the lost time by soaking up as much of his presence as possible. He's always been pretty needy, so maybe it's not that strange.]

They have kits for that?

[COLOR HIM SURPRISED... how do even do that?? Doesn't chocolate come from beans or something??? HELP HIM KASHUU... even at the grocery store he doesn't know how to shop.

But no, Kashuu's need for contact isn't strange--and neither, really, is his willingness to provide it. He needs it as much as Kashuu does, right now, with the memories of years apart still so fresh in his mind. He'd been upset with Kashuu for lying so blatantly, but hadn't he done the same thing? "Find someone else to watch your back," he'd said, but the words felt awkward and false even as they left his mouth. Kashuu's needy, but Yamato's clingy, and maybe they're more alike than either of them will ever admit, but their complementary traits are working in their favor for the moment.]

If they have them, then I bet they'd like something like that... dad's pretty hopeless with anything more complicated than a tuna sandwich, but that's okay. [He smiles a little, nudging Kashuu gently.] Maybe we can get two and you can show them how to use it.

Of course! Chocolate melts are super easy to get and you can buy all kinds of molds for 'em.

[Though he's a big loser with sometimes picky tastes and prefers making things like that completely from scratch... Or, better yet, being gifted something made completely from scratch. SO when they're scouting for cabbage, he'll keep an eye peeled for any cute thing that might make a good present.

Though even then, he doesn't wander too far from Yamato's side. Once they enter the store, he finally moves to release his hand - but it's only so he can grab a hand basket, and he's practically glued back to Yamato's side once it's in his possession. Their respective neediness and clinginess definitely isn't always compatible, but times like now, it works well enough. He'll dredge up the heavier, uglier things they need to address once they're home and in private. For now, it's nice to have this small bit of normalcy after what seems like a thousand years of being unhappy.]

Anyway, that kind of stuff is so easy that I'm sure even your dad could manage it without messing it up too bad. If we're gonna get two, I'd just want the chocolate melts so I could eat 'em with strawberries.

What? You don't want the cute molds? [He sounds shocked, but when he looks at Kashuu, there's a small, playful smile on his face and a teasing sparkle in his eyes.] Who are you and what have you done with Kiyomitsu?

[Despite his teasing, Yamato's obviously fine with this alien replacement, since he takes Kashuu's hand again like they never let go. It's not necessary anymore, now that they've arrived (like it ever was in the first place), but Yamato's never really cared about that, something that hasn't changed from when they were kids. Gpothem tbh.]

You can make really cute chocolate strawberries without any molds, y'know. And they're better for you. [Just because they have fruit in them, okay Kashuu...

BUT GPOTHEM. The real way you can tell Kashuu is an alien replacement is that he doesn't immediately try to squirrel away from Yamato's grasp because holding hands in public is for kids and people who are dating and clearly they're neither!!

Really though, he's just - glad. Relieved, still? He's not sure what he's feeling, exactly. Part of him realizes how lucky he is that Yamato is so willing to accept him time and time again, even if he walks away or says unkind things. Now that his hair-trigger temper is settled, he knows it's only the worst of arrogance that had him feeling entitled to anything else, knows it was unfair to expect Yamato to wait for him when he's never returned the favor when it counts. Those are all formless half-thought, half-feelings that he doesn't give much more attention to, though. He busies himself with looking for chocolate kits and occasionally sneaking sideways glances.

It's around the time they're actually in the produce section that he sets the basket down and reaches out with his free hand, lightly tapping his fingertip against Yamato's cheek.]

This is a much better look for you.

[Like whatever shade he'd been covered by before has lifted, and the life has come back to his face.]

Edited 2017-04-12 15:24 (UTC)

[Ah, college student logic...

But Yamato seems happy enough to take the lead with the actual grocery shopping--he'd only been sent out for cabbage, but it makes sense to pick up a few other things along the way, like milk and fruit (not strawberries ~~because this is already too gay~~). He probably would've been a sad, droopy pompom if Kashuu decided to be tsuntsun and pull away, so it's a good thing their neediness is currently mutual, since he doesn't seem to be in any hurry to let go.

It would be a lie to say he isn't acutely aware of Kashuu, right now. He's always been able to sense Kashuu when they're near each other, though he's always attributed it to a combination of their history as fighting partners and Kashuu's general, confident aura. Kashuu lives for positive attention, so it only makes sense that he's always easy to find. But this is different. It's as if his body is readjusting, realizing "Right, this is how it's meant to be." It's a subconscious thing, but even as Yamato squints at two different heads of cabbge, he can feel Kashuu's presence at the forefront of his mind.

That doesn't mean he's paying attention, though. The touch makes him jump, and he blinks, looking over--a mistake, because it isn't often Kashuu's so direct with comments like that (not unless it's a result of his own hard work, anyway).

Yamato's good at saying extremely embarrassing things with a totally straight face. But he's not immune to getting flustered himself, and this is one of those rare moments. He glances away, rubbing his face as if that'll erase the light blush he can feel on it.]

What, where'd that come from? ["I'm not going to buy you the expensive chocolate," he might've said, under regular circumstances. But this isn't a normal shopping trip, and teasing doesn't feel quite right, just now.]

[~~HIS PLAN, RUINED... the gay agenda must wait another day~~ Kashuu's smiling like he usually does when he delivers compliments, but there's something about this one that's a little softer, a little more genuine, maybe a little apologetic. He's still not at a place where he can get the words out more clearly, but he really does need to apologize for making Yamato look so tired and worn, doesn't he?

Instead, he moves his hand just slightly to the right so he can tug at the nearest wisps of hair framing Yamato's face. His expression shifts from the strange delicate balance into one that's a little more satisfied, closer to his usual looks even though it retains some gentleness.]

Just an observation, that's all.

[And then he pats Yamato's cheek before letting his hand drop away so he can pick up the basket again, turning his attention to the cabbage like he hadn't just successfully managed +1 fluster point.]

[~~every day is gay agenda day with them tbh~~

It's the change in expression, subtle though it is, that really catches his attention. He doesn't exactly sit around and stare at Kashuu's face, but he knows his best friend well enough to pick up on it nonetheless. Kashuu's good at faking tones and expressions when he wants to do so (though, strangely enough, Yamato's pretty much always been able to see through it), so when it comes to moments like this, it's even more obvious.

Kashuu hasn't apologized, hasn't mentioned anything since he opened the door, but Yamato understands anyway. Wouldn't it be unfair to expect a spoken apology, when he hasn't said a word either? And isn't it enough, really, to see an expression like that? There's enough remorse written into the relief of his shoulders, enough longing eased by the pull of his smile--Kashuu hasn't spoken, but Yamato hears what he's saying anyway.

He's still embarrassed, and he ducks his head, bangs falling into his eyes and promptly undoing Kashuu's handiwork. (Not surprising--he'd barely even bothered with the ponytail when he'd left the house). But it's a warm feeling, even if he doesn't know what to do with it.]

I messed up my nails.

[Is the first thing that comes to mind, and he speaks without thinking, as usual. His nails were messed up pretty much the day after Kashuu painted them (of course), but he holds a hand out anyway, like this is a brand new occurrence. In fairness, it's clear that he's recently been picking at the polish still hanging on for dear life, but all that remains is a flower petal and a speck of blue here and there.]

You worked really hard on them...

[It's enough to draw his attention away from the cabbage again, though it hadn't really been firmly anchored there in the first place. He arches a brow and glances from Yamato's face down to his hands, to the little specks of polish still remaining.

It's easy to tell Yamato's been picking at it, considering how long it usually takes polish that's been sealed properly to even begin flaking. Maybe under normal circumstances, he would berate Yamato for being careless, complain about all of the time he put into it going to waste. But despite the both of them continuing to carry on like things are normal (relatively speaking), they aren't, and he doesn't bother delving back into petty sniping and griping just yet.]

Polish isn't meant to last forever, you know. No matter how much work or time you put into 'em, you'd have to strip 'em all clean and redo the ones that chip every few days.

[The real struggle... When you just can't live with even a single chip on your nail.]

What, do you want me to redo yours?

[That's said with the smallest teasing lilt.]

No way!

[IMMEDIATELY... and he sure is shaking his head with way more vigor than necessary?? Some things truly never change.

Some things do, though. He toys with his fingers for a minute, jaw working as he processes the apology in his mouth, debating whether or not to let it out. "Sorry I messed up my nails" isn't really what he wants to say, but it's still a "sorry", and he's reasonably certain Kashuu would understand. Part of him (a large part, actually) still smarts from the things Kashuu said--and Kashuu was right, when he'd told Thalia that Yamato hadn't said anything he didn't truly believe. But with the clarity brought by time and Kashuu's presence like a salve on his loneliness, he's conscious enough to realize he's got plenty to apologize for too. No matter how much he wants Kashuu to stop running, for his own sake, there are a hundred better ways he could've gone about it. It's easier to see that now, in the light of day.]

...If you want to clean them or something, though, then I wouldn't mind.

[He hates getting his nails filed or trimmed or-- anything, honestly, polish is really the least traumatizing bit of the whole ordeal. Just like this shopping trip, it's a peace offering of sorts.

And hey, it's better than a cabbage to the head, right?]

[set him free, honestly...

But as is the case with almost everything else, the two of them are on the same page more often than they're off of it. Kashuu understands what's behind this offer here; even if it'd be a pretty weird offer even on a good day, it's the sentiment he can read behind it now that really makes it stand out.]

—I was going to anyway. [HE WASN'T but it's always so easy to slide back into routine, to pick up where he left off even if he has a lot of things left to say.] You can't just go wandering around with little tiny specks of polish all over your nails. It's not cute at all.

[So he's clearly just doing his duty when he cleans them up, because taking care of Yamato is his job and even if Yamato does the cooking and dishes, Kashuu's the one who makes sure he's tidy and presentable.

That's the way it's supposed to be, after all.]

[Yamato sighs, and it's supposed to sound exasperated, but mostly it just comes out as relieved. PLAN B IS A WASTE OF GOOD CABBAGE and also maybe he's just a little bit glad that things haven't changed that much. He knows Kashuu, probably better than he even knows himself, but there are moments--especially when things are uneasy between them--that throw him off, uncertainty and worry nipping at his heart. It's nice, to have that affirmation, to know that yes, he does still know his closest friend just as well as he always has.]

Just when are you going to realize that nobody's looking to see if I'm cute or not, huh? [The words seem like a complaint, but there's an obvious smile in his voice, and warmth in his eyes. Maybe someday one of them will realize that Yamato only bothers with any of this when it makes Kashuu happy... today probably isn't that day, but, y'know. Baby steps.]

[Today probably isn't that day, no... It'd require more awareness and concentration than either of them have even on a good day, and despite the soothing of tensions and loneliness and the fact that this is all going much better than he'd anticipated, he's still devoting most of his attention to the current situation.]

Just 'cause you don't pay attention to that stuff doesn't mean everyone else is the same, Yasu.

[But likewise, while this would normally be said with exasperation, it falls a little shy this time.

Anyway, to avoid being more of an embarrassment than he already is, he reaches forward to pick up Yamato's hand so he can inspect his nails a little closer. Just for a second, considering they're in the middle of the produce section in a grocery store and all.]

Mm... Yeah, this won't take long to clean up.]

IC inbox; recolle

PART 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

gently dumps a novel on you

ugh punches u

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

when you notice you wrote the same dang phrase in a sentence twice

at least u didnt bracket randomly

not in this thread in particular, but...

rip........ 1/2

(no subject)

adds a tally to the Missed Opportunities counter